
‘The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power’ Season 2 review: Treachery afoot in a distilled Middle Earth redemption arc
The Hindu
The Rings of Power's second season sharpens its focus on Sauron's manipulations, delivering a more streamlined and menacing narrative.
If The Rings of Power’s debut season was a sprawling, billion dollar introduction that sometimes felt as weighty as Tolkien’s endless appendices, its second season unsheathes itself like a sword newly tempered in the fires of Mount Doom — sharper, more focused, and with a clearer purpose: the great deceiver, Sauron himself. The titular rings, finally taking center stage, serve as the gleaming fulcrum around which this season spins. In the first three episodes made available to us, the narrative is tighter, the stakes are clearer, and, most crucially, the menace of Sauron is allowed to permeate the story with the looming inevitability that fans of Tolkien’s lore have long craved.
From the outset, the season doubles down on Sauron’s conniving duplicity, transforming him from a shadowy figure lurking in the margins into a master manipulator whose influence touches every corner of Middle-earth. Charlie Vickers, who played the conflicted Halbrand in the first season, now fully inhabits the role of Sauron, shedding any remnants of ambiguity in favour of a more overt, and deliciously sinister portrayal of the designing dark lord. His Sauron is a figure who delights in sowing discord, his silver tongue as sharp as any blade. There’s a palpable sense of foreboding whenever he’s on screen, a tension that pulses through the season like the slow, inevitable march of doom.
The season’s narrative strength lies in its focus on Sauron’s machinations and the consequences of the rings he helps forge. These aren’t mere trinkets but symbols of power, corruption, and the insidious nature of evil. Charles Edwards’ Celebrimbor, the Elven smith responsible for crafting these artifacts, takes on a central role, his impending tragedy the beating heart of the season. Edwards brings a weighty gravitas to Celebrimbor’s descent. His portrayal is one of quiet desperation, a man so consumed by his almost selfish desire to save his people that he unwittingly paves the way for their downfall. His scenes with Sauron, now in the guise of Annatar, Lord of Gifts, crackle with tension, each word laced with double meanings and hidden threats.
But it’s not just the elves who fall under Sauron’s spell. The dwarves of Khazad-dûm, led by the stubborn King Durin III, may just be equally susceptible. The father-son scuffle between Durin III and Owain Arthur’s Prince Durin IV provides some moments of poignancy, their relationship, strained by duty and expectation, becomes a microcosm of the larger battle between tradition and change.
Meanwhile, Sam Hazeldine’s Adar emerges as a standout, embodying a quiet menace that seethes just beneath the surface. Seamlessly replacing Joseph Mawle, Hazeldine brings out a brooding intensity to the Uruk leader. His Adar isn’t simply a villain, rather, more of a tragic gray figure, haunted by the uncertainties of the past and driven by a twisted sense of purpose.
The Elves on the other hand are less the ethereal paragons of Valinor and more fallible, weary beings — clinging to their fading glory this season. Morfydd Clark’s Galadriel, remains at the heart of the Elven struggle, her obsession with hunting Sauron taking on a frenetic urgency that borders on self-destruction. Yet, the true emotional weight falls on Robert Aramayo’s Elrond, who evolves from dutiful diplomat to a figure burdened by impossible choices.
Yet, not all is gold that glitters in this sprawling epic. The frustrating creative choices for juggling multiple side-quests continues, and almost none are anywhere nearly as compelling as the central narrative. The humans of Númenór, embroiled in their own Westeros-like power struggles, feel particularly disconnected from the main action. Even the presence of the blind Queen Regent Míriel and her usurper cousin Pharazôn can’t quite shake the feeling that these scenes are merely setting the stage for events far down the line, rather than contributing to the season’s momentum.